


The Worth of a Choice

by FeldGrau



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Denial, Draco Malfoy-centric, Happy Ending, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post Hogwarts AU, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Remix, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-01 11:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeldGrau/pseuds/FeldGrau
Summary: Remix of Scents Of Sleepless Nights by eleventy7.One action decided the lives of two people;In another life, Draco Malfoy met Harry Potter on the eve of his wedding and they went on their separate ways.But this Draco has had enough of obeying his parents’ orders. Instead of marrying the heiress they chose for him, he went to Ukraine with Harry.This one decision might just be enough to turn their tragedy into a Happily Ever After.





	1. Life in Ukraine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Scents of Sleepless Nights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795099) by [eleventy7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleventy7/pseuds/eleventy7). 



For some reason or another, something unexplainable, Draco's hand reached out. He tugged the corner of Harry Potter's coat hard enough that the man stumbled backward, crashing into Draco, and they almost fell down the steps of the bank.

Unlike in the past, Harry didn't immediately go on the offensive. He blinked questioningly at Draco, but without heat. "What is it?"

Draco couldn't answer fast enough. He didn't know what possessed him to reach out, to stop Harry from entering the bank and going on their separate ways, only meeting by coincidence once every several years.

But when he thought about his life; the upcoming marriage, the cut-and-dried future, all the routines, something unpleasant churned in his stomach. Somehow, somewhere along the way he had lost the control of his own life.

"Take me with you," Draco said with all the impulsivity of an eleven year old. The moment the words left his mouth, however, he knew they were the right ones.

Harry's eyes scrunched up in confusion. "Didn't you just say you're going to get married tomorrow?" he asked. He didn't try to pry Draco's fingers off of himself.

Draco didn't say anything, but Harry must have seen something in his eyes, because Draco found himself pulled into the bank. Like a stray animal, Harry brought him home and fed him and let him sleep on the sofa in the living room.

The next day, Harry went to spend time with his friends, but left Draco with a key so he could let himself back into the old Black townhouse. Draco went to the bank and moved as much money as he could to a more private, secure account at the same time his wedding was suppose to take place.

His parents would be angered beyond believe, but they would forgive him one day. They loved him, even if they didn't always understand his actions.

Harry didn't say anything when he returned home and found Draco still on his sofa.

* * *

 

They went to Ukraine first, since the auror shortage there was still not resolved after a year. Harry had been there before as part of the travel he did in the gap years between Hogwarts and auror training. For the first few weeks, Draco did nothing but familiarize himself with this strange new country and his strange new role while Harry was away doing auror training.

Unlike what he thought before, Harry had not, in fact, overdosed himself on cheering charms. He was just high enough on life to take in an old school rival, but even that patience was exhausted on the first month of living together. They fought a lot, on important things and random things and domestic things, but without the heat and aggressiveness of the past.

If not for their heavy past, they would be just like any other roommates.

Harry never once threatened to kick Draco out. Draco couldn't say the same and he had threatened to leave quite a number of times, but he never did and they stayed together despite everything.

* * *

 

After several weeks of wandering aimlessly, Draco became restless enough to take up hobbies. He tried reading, but sitting for hours and hours didn't appeal to him much. Next he tried gardening and discovered that his bad grade in Herbology was truly deserved. He just didn't enough patience for it.

Cooking was something he picked up more as a necessity. Harry was too busy to cook most of the time and he was getting sick of take-outs. His first few attempts were not worth talking about, but cooking wasn't really all that different from Potion and he got better.

By the time a month had passed since Draco started doing all the cooking, Harry stopped complaining about poisonous food. They stopped buying takeouts too.

It wasn't what he thought about doing when he thoughtlessly ran from home, but it wasn't bad. Here, away from his parents, he had all the time to figure out what he wanted from life.

* * *

 

Draco sent letters to his parents and his friends every Saturday, always from a new country. Harry was determined to take him to tour the entire Europe, even if only on the weekend. They left Ukraine on Friday night and returned by Sunday.

Greg, Pansy, and Blaise all escaped England the moment the Dark Lord fell. They were not as notorious as the Malfoys, so they managed to get away by greasing the right palms before the Hunts began. They didn't reply immediately. Draco had to prove that he was real and it wasn't a trap by the British Ministry by putting in some veiled references to things only he knew before they replied to any of his letters.

On the other hand, even after two months after Draco escaped his own wedding, every single envelope he sent to his parents was sent back unopened. He had expected it though, so he didn't give up.

Harry never said anything about the unopened envelopes until one day, while they were sitting about in a nice café in Estonia, he did. "Maybe you should send them souvenirs too."

It took Draco a minute to process the advice, mostly because they were talking about where to go for dinner and not about his pile of returned letters. When he followed Harry's pointed stare to the letter he was preparing to send, he frowned.

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Well, won't it better than nothing? Maybe that will piqued their curiosity enough," he said.

Draco pondered upon the suggestion the whole time they were in Estonia. When it was time to send the letter, Draco also included a bottle of specialty drink and a small brooch made of amber. Harry helped him boxed them up and even cast a spell right under the post office’s clerk's nose.

They giggled like schoolboys all the way to the train station.

* * *

 

It took a year for his mother to start replying to Draco's letters. They stayed on safe topics. She didn't ask where he was or why he did it. In return, he didn't ask for news from back home and waited until his mother offered it.

During that one year, Draco managed to accomplish some things.

The war had less impact on the continent and they had experience with reintegrating people after the mess with Grindelwald, therefore less people eyed Draco with wariness. Draco discovered this when Harry managed, after months of persuading, to talk him into an outing to Kiev's wizarding district.

There, Draco met a Potion Master formerly associated with Grindelwald. She was old and not the friendliest and yet she commanded respect. Despite the unpleasant reminder to the old Headmaster and Potion Master of Hogwarts, Draco managed to be charming enough that the Potion Master asked him to come back to talk.

A month later, Draco was made her apprentice.

* * *

 

Two years after Draco followed Harry to Ukraine, they returned to England to celebrate Harry's birthday. It wasn't nearly long enough after the war, so Draco didn't joined the festivity in the Weasley's home. Instead, he went to visit his parents.

It was awkward and chilly. There were barely any small talks and his father steadily refused to look at him. His mother looked at him with equal part disappointment and resignation.

But they didn't turn him away, which he counted as a win.

Once enough time passed and it was evident that they could only tolerated him in smaller doses, Draco excused himself. He waved goodbye to his mother and walked down the path out of the richer neighborhood they lived in.

That was when he saw Sarah.

She was, of course, surprised to see him. But she didn't seem angry that he left her at the altar. Eyeing her round stomach and the American man holding her waist with protectiveness, Draco thought she had no reason to be dissatisfied with much.

They exchanged pleasantries. It was tense; Sarah kept shooting him guilty looks, the American man kept glaring at him in confusion, quite similar to a puppy that just met a new person, and Draco was too tired for anything but short answers.

But when he was about to leave them, Sarah stopped him. "You left something. At ou—my house."

Draco thought that was a bit of an understatement. He left a lot of things at the house he was supposed to live in with Sarah after the wedding as he ran away with nothing but the clothes on his back and all the money he managed to move within one day.

But she was adamant and reluctantly, though he wanted nothing more than to rest, Draco followed the couple back to their house.

Sitting across each other, the American man looked as uncomfortable as Draco was while they waited for Sarah. She was taking quite long. They stubbornly looked at everything but each other.

When Sarah returned with a familiar red scarf, Draco blinked at her. "Oh," he let out as he took it from her.

"I just want to thank you, Draco. If you had showed up on our wedding day, I wouldn't have mustered enough courage to stand up to my parents and marry Robert," she said earnestly. "I hope you'll be happy with your old schoolmate too."

The comment confused him for a second. The he figured that his parents probably told her about Harry, as he had explained his situation to them often enough in his letters. It felt strange, to be hearing Sarah talk about Harry; the clash of his old and new and reclaimed lives. 

Then the moment passed. Draco thanked her for the scarf and the blessing and went back to Grimmauld Place a bit more cheerfully than when he left.

* * *

 

The first time Greg, Pansy, and Blaise visited him, things went bad in less than an hour.

He forgot to tell them beforehand that he was still living with Harry. They apparently thought that he only stayed with him until he could stand on his own. The thought of moving out had never crossed his mind until they mentioned it and that was a bit strange, but he was too busy trying to make sure nobody killed anybody and didn't have time for stray thoughts.

Harry put up a good fight, but it was still three against one and he looked like somebody asked him to kick a puppy or something after a minute of Pansy and Blaise's special brand of scathing. Draco had no intention to start living by himself, especially since it would mean he needed to start cleaning in addition to cooking, so he ushered them out before Harry exploded into itty-bitty pieces.

He took them on a tour of Kiev, the muggle part of it anyway, while berating them. If they didn't promise to leave Harry alone, then there would be no more visits. They didn't understand why and he was bad at explaining things, but they promised to behave next time.

When he got home, Harry looked at him strangely. "Why did you stop them?"

"How mannerless. No welcome home for me? If I know you're not going to reciprocate I should stop saying it to you too," Draco grumbled as he started preparing dinner.

"Draco, I'm serious. Why did you stop them?" Harry asked again. He was oddly intense, strung up, and Draco got the childish urge to mockingly mimic him.

That wouldn't go well, though, so Draco didn't. Instead, he stopped his chopping and shrugged. " _Nobody_ deserves to be made uncomfortable in their own home, don't you think?"

* * *

 

Draco started learning healing spells when Harry started coming home with bruises.

He was starting the combat portion of his classes and they were brutal on him.

When Harry was made an auror, the bruises turned into wounds. Healing spells were not enough for those, so Draco started brewing balms and ointments and a host of other things he would need to keep Harry alive and well.

With Master Roza’s help, he started tinkering with them too, experimenting to make them better. Harry needed more than the best potions currently offered in the market to stay alive. Recklessness and auroring did not go well together.

But it was always better to prevent than to fix. So, after one too many times having to wait for Harry to wake up from his life-threatening injuries, Draco snapped. He lectured Harry long and hard on why safety measures were implemented in the first place, why aurors never went anywhere alone, why healers suggest recovery period in between injuries.

On and on and on he went until he was red in the face and Harry was red in the face and a healer went in to remind Draco to lower his voice. She looked apologetic but didn’t kick him out.

In the end, Harry had sighed and his mouth was pressed into a thin line with guilt. He took Draco's hand and squeezed. "I'm sorry for making you worry."

Heart leaping in his chest, Draco squeezed back.

* * *

 

After five years, Harry got tired of living in Ukraine. It wasn’t a bad city, but the continent just didn’t have enough appeal to warrant a permanent stay.

By then, Draco had been a Potion Master for almost one year and Harry an auror for two years. They had countless fights but stayed together for half a decade with no plan for separation. Despite the many talks about living arrangements for their impending return, neither of them ever mentioned not living together as an option. It was taken for granted that they would live together.

Grimmauld was suggested after one too many arguments, where they always stayed when they visited England. They listed the reason for and against it for days until deciding that Grimmauld was too big and hardly livable. It was useable for short stays, but anything more and they would need to work on it.

Then Harry surprised him one day with a suggestion: “How about one of those shops with a flat above it?”

Draco temporarily abandoned the papers he was reading to stare at Harry. “That’s very discouraged for a potion shop. The fumes alone would make everything quite unpleasant and potentially hazardous.”

“You can brew your potions elsewhere. Use the shop just to sell, so no fumes would float up into our home,” Harry explained slowly, patiently. His eyes were strange, shifty and determined.

He wanted something.

Harry was like a child in many ways. He was too easy to read, as he displayed his feelings quite freely, and he had tells that alerted people to when he was being sneaky and he divulged secrets easily when pushed. After living with him for so many years, Draco could tell when Harry was up to something.

So he opened his mouth. He was about to argue about the fussiness of it all and disagree until Harry came forward with whatever it was he was planning, but it wasn’t necessary. It was obvious what Harry had truly wanted. 

He closed his mouth again, stared at Harry, and sighed.

“Fine. This way I can easily filch stocks from the shop when you suddenly needed emergency midnight healing.” Not that Harry needed it much these days. He seemed to finally learn the meaning of the word caution.

Harry grinned, unrepentant.


	2. The Return to Britain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Britain was less than welcoming.

Unsurprisingly, the people that wanted nothing to do with a convicted Death Eater disappeared once the Chosen One’s name was attached to the shop as a co-owner. It would have irked him when he was young, but Draco had since grown up enough to let go of his pride when necessary.

The location they eventually chose was Eteren Alley in Wales. It was a sleepy little place, nowhere as popular as Diagon Alley in London or Sphere Alley in Dublin, and was barely touched by the war. They chose it with the hope that the residents would be less hostile to Draco.

The building they bought had three floors and a basement. The first would be the storefront, the second and third would be their living quarters, and the basement would be used as storage. Draco would be brewing in a nearby woods, far enough from the village and the hills where the local sheep grazed. 

The Weasleys and Harry’s assorted friends came by often. It wasn’t hard to see that they didn’t trust Draco, except for Luna, and they were barely polite to him in front of Harry, much less behind him. They seemed to think that he should be a lot more—humbled, defeated, humiliated.

Ten years after the war, Draco still paid for the mistakes he made in his youth. That was the price of his return to Britain.

He refused to bow down to their demands.

Draco had felt guilty and would continue to feel guilty for his actions for the rest of his life. He had paid dearly for his part and would be made to pay for as long as he lived.

But he had also survived the same war as them. He had been front seat to the horror and the danger and the terror. He learned a lot about things to hold on to and misplaced blame and unrelenting resilience then.

That was why he knew being guilty for his part was not the same as accepting to be a scapegoat. To be accepting every blame and every insult and every harassment because they had nobody else to blame. It was not the same as being made to pay for every single atrocities committed by people with the same tattoo as the one on his arm.

Master Roza had taught him more than potions; she had taught him to take responsibility of his part and no more.  That he had to move on and become better. To change.

That it was the best payment he could make to the world.

For all their talks of second chances and redemptions, Harry’s associates seemed to be unable to process that people could grow up and change. That Draco wasn’t stagnating just because he was away from them.

He didn’t care much for them and their opinions though, no matter what the current wizarding world thought. He was here for Harry.

Harry believed in him and acknowledged his change, his guilt, his remorse.

That was all that mattered.

* * *

 

One day, the parade of Harry’s friends and families and comrades and whatever else they were to him stopped coming.

Draco was too busy with his brewing and training his fresh-out-of-Hogwarts shopkeeper to notice at first. But a whole day without any of Harry’s friends was as conspicuous as their so called discreet visits. With his luck, they could be off skimming all law books they could get their hands on for anything to send him off to Azkaban.

Or so he thought.

But when Harry returned home, refusing to look at Draco in the eyes all the while, Draco knew that was not what happened. Harry was too predictable like that.

Draco had a feeling he knew had been done.

 "You told them to bugger off?" Draco asked, putting down the ledger he was reviewing.

Harry fidgeted, like a little boy caught doing naughty things.

"Somebody once told me ' _nobody_ should be made uncomfortable in their own home and they were doing exactly that. There is no way I can turn a blind eye to that," he said.

Abandoning his work, Draco patted the seat next to him and waited until Harry took a seat.

"Even though they have a _reason_ to be so hostile to me?" Draco asked. His tone was not sharp. He might not like what they did to him, but he was good at compartmentalizing his emotions. He knew better than to take it out on Harry.

Harry frowned. He was obviously upset, but Draco knew he wouldn’t be lashing out in anger either.

Just like Draco, Harry had a lot of practice on anger management and misplaced focus. He had stopped being so foolhardy with both his words and his actions after they nearly costed him his life.

They were both grown up enough to have calm discussions instead of fiery arguments.

"My uncle and aunt had a 'reason' to abuse me—because that was what they really did— just as your father had a 'reason' to follow Voldemort to decimate the muggles. The Ministry had a 'reason' to reject your creations even though they were clearly superior and could have helped a lot of people," he said with a grimace. Turning to Draco, finally looking him in the eyes, Harry's brilliant green eyes were blazing. "It’s easy to make _excuses_ , but that doesn’t make any of it right."

Rubbing his eyes, Draco snorted. "I hope you didn’t make that comparison to your friends' faces."

From the silence that ensued, Draco knew Harry did exactly that. With a dramatic sigh, he rose and went to kitchen. He brought back a dark brown bottle that he thought would be fitting for their current situation.

Harry was always less broody when he was drunk.

"Is that—"

"That drink I bought in Estonia? Yes, it is. It's fitting, don’t you think?" Draco poured them both a glass. "Cheers."

"Why is it still around?" Harry commented in between drinks. “Most of my clothes didn’t survive our move!”

Draco didn’t tell Harry that he had been the reason those clothes had ‘mysteriously’ went missing. They were ugly and obviously uncomfortable. With them gone, it was far easier to convince Harry to go shopping for something more fitting.

Harry likely knew about this plan. He probably knew that Draco knew that he knew too.

Still, it became a joke between them.

"Because it is worth more than all your missing clothes put together!" Draco answered playfully, already slightly tipsy. The drink was stronger than he thought.

It was Harry's turn to snicker, obviously just as not sober as Draco was. "Only because you bought it in a souvenir shop," he said loftily, smirking. It was endearing, in a way, like watching a kitten chew on your hair. "I told you they overcharged for everything."

Draco sniffed. "I'm young and impressionable."

"You were a snob," Harry slurred with a grin, too soft and tender to be a smirk. "Served you right."

* * *

 

It took a lot of balancing to get it right, but Draco and Harry managed to craft a comfortable life together.

This life did not extend to the world outside of their home. Despite their closeness as housemates, their outside lives hardly ever overlap. It wasn’t worth the fuss.

After all, they had very incompatible social lives.

That didn’t stop them from talking about it. Draco knew about Weasley and Granger's marriage preparation and about the births of Weasley children. In return, Harry knew enough about his parents’ life among muggles and his suspicion about the relationship between Greg, Pansy, and Blaise.

Draco spent his weekdays brewing potions and managing the finance of his shop while Harry was off auroring. On weekends, he did experiments while Harry was off with his friends.

With Blaise's help, Draco published his findings and sold the experiment results on the continent. The British Ministry still automatically rejected anything with his name on it.

Occasionally, Draco visited his parents. They still lived in the muggle world, as the public opinion had hardly changed enough for their return. These visits were considerably less chilly than that first visit after he ran away. He was right; there was no way they wouldn’t forgive him.

On very rare occasions, Draco visited Sarah.

Now that they weren't strongly encouraged to marry each other, Draco and Sarah got along much better. They were no longer tense, spent moments in comfortable silence, and had no pressing need to quickly learn enough about each other.

Initially, Robert was hardly happy about these visits. That was understandable.

However, Sarah took him aside that one time and gave him a stern talking to. Draco didn’t know what she told him, but he seemed far more relaxed about Draco’s visits afterwards.

On the other hand, Nancy—Sarah and Robert's child, named after Robert's mother—was absolutely taken with Draco from the very start. Nearing a year old, she always greeted Draco cheerfully. She never cried when he was holding her.

Nancy was utterly adorable.

In another world, she would have been his. Draco was glad she wasn't. He wasn't ready to have a child and he wouldn't know what to do with one full-time.

"You're good with her," Sarah commented, once Nancy was finally doing the napping she was supposed to do hours ago, while offering him a drink for his success.

"Thank you," he said, for both the drink and the praise. Dropping on the sofa, he sighed heavily. "This child caring business is too tiring. I doubt I can do it every day."

"I thought so too, when I first found out I was pregnant. We waffled about for a bit, but it didn’t turn out too badly,” Sarah chuckled. She had a fond smile as patted his arm playfully. “My mum said parenting is always the same. We can only try our best and hope everything turns out alright in the end."

Sarah radiated so much happiness she looked glowing.

It was a good look on her.

Suddenly, he knew that his decision not to marry her was the right one. They were both happier this way; Sarah with the man she chose and Draco with the life he chose. They wouldn't have this if he had married her.

* * *

 

The perfect little bubble they lived in burst when Harry brought home a not-so-little Teddy Lupin. Draco remembered his mother’s story about Aunt Andromeda, who she had been visiting lately, and guessed that he was about Hogwarts age by now.

It was funny how much time had passed without him noticing.

"Andromeda is sick," Harry explained hurriedly while tugging a small trunk out of the fireplace. "She can't take care of a child in her condition, so she told me to take care of Teddy for the week until it's time for him to go to Hogwarts."

The boy stared at Draco unblinkingly. Draco stubbornly ignored him.

"Where is the rest of his things? I doubt that one suitcase could contain everything he would need for Hogwarts," Draco eyed the tiny thing with distaste.

Harry sheepishly looked away.

Draco glared at him. “He had not been taken shopping?”

“She’s been sick for awhile now,” Harry said pleadingly. “She thought it was just a small bug, but apparently it was bad enough to bedridden her.”

The boy was still, creepily enough, staring at Draco without blinking.

Harry steadily refused to meet his eyes.

Draco had the urge to lock his door and slept the week away.

But he had been raised to hold family above all. It was especially important in the aftermath of the war, when the Malfoys had nobody but each other.

So Draco didn’t turn away. With Harry barely able of taking care of himself most days, he doubted he would have a cousin left once he emerged from his room next week.

 “I’ll take him to get things from around here first thing on Monday and you’ll take him to Diagon Alley for the rest that can’t be found here on Tuesday. Let’s just hope they haven’t run out of supplies for the year or we’ll have to ask around for those who bough extra supplies.” Draco said with a sigh.

Then he went back to making dinner.

At that, Teddy’s eyes slowly changed color from brilliant green to pale grey.

Harry was smiling so brightly he looked slightly crazy.

Draco steadily refused to about the strange warmth blooming in the depth of his stomach.

* * *

 

Despite Draco’s fear, everything turned out sort of alright.

Teddy was a quiet and generally unobstructive child. After getting his supplies put together, he usually hung about with Taylor, who just graduated from Hogwarts last year and worked as a clerk in Draco’s Potion shop while applying for better jobs, or followed Draco to the little shack in the woods.

That week, Draco brewed simpler, Hogwarts-curicculum potions. He explained his methods to Teddy as he worked. Even if Harry was his godfather, Teddy was still a Black. It wouldn’t do for him to be inept at potions.

During the night, they usually gathered in the lounge to watch telly or read a book or just talk. Harry asked about Teddy and Draco’s day, Teddy told his story with the kind of glee that only kids had, and Draco made sure they were not planning mischief behind his back.

Then, on their last night together before Teddy went to Hogwarts, Harry asked him, “Which house do you think you’ll go to, Teddy?”

Draco had thought the boy would answer Gryffindor, because these days everybody wanted to be a lion like Harry Potter. Or maybe he would say Hufflepuff, the house of his mother. Ravenclaw was also possible, as Teddy had huge curiousity and was quietly studious.

Nobody ever wanted to be a Slytherin anymore. Not after it had been dragged through mud during the last two wars and had never been picked up again.

Of course, Teddy proved him wrong. “I want to be a Slytherin, Uncle Harry!”

It was evident that Harry was struck speechless and therefore useless, so Draco had to be the one asking the question present in their minds. "Why Slytherin, Teddy?"

"Grandma said that these days Slytherin are bullied a lot," Teddy said with a pout. Despite that, he had a determined look in his eyes, one that was uncomfortably familiar to Draco. "That's not right! I want to change it. She said the bullies only dared to do that because their victims come from families that can't do anything about it, but the bullies won’t dare with me because my parents are famous and I have Uncle Harry!"

It was evident that Teddy was almost parroting somebody's words. The idea might be pretty, but reality was so much worse than just 'bullying' and there was no way Draco would let his cousin be subjected to that. There was a reason most kids transferred out after being sorted Slytherin and why none of the old families returned from their self-imposed exile from Britain.

Sorting Slytherin was akin to a death sentence these days.

But there was a glint in Teddy's eyes that stopped Draco from explicitly dissuading him. It was the shine of self-righteousness and unbelievable bullheadedness. He knew from dealing with Harry that saying no in this instance would be counterproductive.

Instead, he tried to appeal to something he knew kids wouldn't resist. "Teddy, don't you want to make lots and lots of friends?" Draco asked kindly, waiting until Teddy nodded before continuing. "It'll be hard to make that many friends if you're in Slytherin."

"Why?" was asked and Draco took back every nice things he had said about Teddy's curiosity.

Draco looked to Harry for help but the cowardly lion looked away. He would have glared a lot longer to make his points, but Teddy was already pulling his clothes in impatience.

There was no way Draco was explaining the War to his prepubescent cousin. That was Harry's job. Or maybe Aunt Andromeda's. But she was bedridden with some kind of sickness and it would be too cruel to make her do it. So the job was definitely Harry’s. Certainly not Draco’s.

Sadly, he couldn’t just pulled Harry and retreated back to his room until they were done with the explanation. Teddy was already looking at him with big, terribly piercing grey eyes. There was no escape.

With a sigh, Draco took Teddy into his lap.

"Because the other houses think that Slytherins are bad.  They're not, of course, but these kids grew up being taught that they are," Draco said after some quick thinking. He couldn't help the slight bitterness that slipped into his voice as he talked; he tried not to think about it too much, but it was still painful to be reminded of it. "You can try changing people's mind by befriending some Slytherins later, but you'll have a lot of problems if you're sorted into it."

Draco tried his best to make it sounded reasonable, but he was resigned to the futility of it.

It wasn’t hard to see that Teddy had already made up his mind.

* * *

 

As expected, Teddy got sorted into Slytherin.

However, he didn’t have time to lament the unfortunate sorting because there was a summon from his mother. She ordered him to bring his ‘less-than-proper housemate’ when he visited the next Sunday.

It was signed by both her and Aunt Andromeda.

The following Sunday proved to be one of the most awkward moment of his life.

When the servant brought them over to the parlor, his mother and Aunt Andromeda were giggling while his father was, for lack of a better description, sulking. All the males in the room looked decidedly less happy than the females.

It was such an absurd sight that he pinched Harry as hard as he could to make sure that he wasn't dreaming this up. Harry glared while rubbing his pinched arm.

Not a dream, then.

Or so he thought, until Aunt Andromeda decided to surprise them before they were even seated by announcing; "I think I’m getting too old to take care of Teddy all of the time, so why don't you two take him for now?"

Deciding that he really shouldn’t have delegated, Draco pinched his own arm.

Unfortunately, it hurt. He would have preferred that it did not, as Draco was not a fan of pain and he was certainly not ready to be responsible for a child.

Then Harry was sputtering and his father was gritting his teeth.

"What about you, Andromeda? I heard you're sick—don't you need somebody to live with you now more than ever?" Harry asked when he was finally finished mimicking a fish.

Aunt Andromeda waved her hand as she sipped her tea. "Don't worry about me, Harry. I've decided to accept Cissa’s offer and live here."

Draco had never heard his mother giggled before. It was such a strange sound, coming from his poised mother. But today he had heard it twice.

His mother was giggling and his father looked away in what most would call embarrassment. That was such a suspicious reaction that Draco, who kept quiet because that was the only way he could keep his sanity, almost dropped the cup he was holding. Harry helped him right his cup, which sent his mother into another fit of giggles.

"Are you sure, Andromeda? I mean—" Harry started to say, but never finished. He obviously didn’t know how to explain the idea he had in his mind, as his hands lifted as if to gesture something but froze in indecision midway. He looked like a constipated monkey asking zoo visitors for bananas.

He was ridiculous. Draco's stomach had no business getting warmed by it.

"I am quite sure, Harry," Andromeda said. Her eyes flicked to Draco for a moment before returning their attention to Harry. "I am getting on my age. Besides, I missed Cissa and Lucius isn't so bad these days."

There was a particular emphasis on the word _missed_ and _bad_ that seemed to completely flew over Harry's head. Draco shuddered but kept his mouth shut, banishing the thought before it could poison his mind. That wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to think about. Ever.

It was bad enough to think about Greg, Pansy, and Blaise. He really didn’t need to think about his parents and his aunt. If only he could obliviate himself of the idea slowly tainting his mind…

All of a sudden Harry knocked their knees together and Draco turned to look at him. "Are you okay with this?"

Draco didn't like kids much, but Teddy was alright, and as he was Hogwarts age already they couldn't damage him much with their ineptitude. But it wasn't just their choice, so he answered with "Only if Teddy is fine with this arrangement."

For the first time since they entered the room, Aunt Andromeda smiled at him. "I've asked and he'll be happy to stay with you two. He really likes you, Draco. I have never heard him talk about somebody with as much excitement as he did about you."

That took Draco by so much surprise that he could only let out a little 'oh'.

Then they talked some more, making arrangements, and by the end of it Draco could see Harry starting to get along better with his father. They shared many, many exasperated looks over the women’s heads. His mother kept giggling and his aunt kept leering and Draco felt like he had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

He felt out of control.

* * *

 

Draco wouldn’t have visited the Weasley, especially uninvited and during such a festive season, if not for Teddy. The boy had pestered him without tiring from the moment he got out of the Hogwarts Express. Harry, though amused, was no help in dissuading the boy and so Draco had ended up saying yes in a rare moment of weakness.

It was a mistake.

He had apologized to everybody, both publically and individually to each of the guests privately, but it was evident none of them really believed him. He would have tried again and again if there was any indication of persistence bearing fruits, but there wasn’t.

Draco hated hopeless endeavor most of all.

They all had cast him into a role and refused to see otherwise. He was a villain, would always be one, and that was the one truth they held onto.

More than a decade later and the grudge against Malfoys were still going strong. Even Molly Weasley, who Harry swore was kind and generous and kind of forgiving, refused to be polite to him. Considering the enthusiastic way she was killing his aunt the last time he saw her, Draco was not surprised.

He wasn’t outright driven out because of Teddy and Harry, but that didn’t stop the rest of them from harassing him.

However, unlike when he was younger, Draco knew when not to make a fuss these days. He knew when not to push an issue. He knew he was outnumbered and in hostile territory, so he kept his mouth shut and his head low.

But his Master, the dear old Roza, also taught him that he didn’t deserve the beatings and the insults and the degradation. In wars everybody committed the same atrocities, but the losers punished and the winners rewarded. What was called acts of valor for a person would be called heinousness for another.

Master Roza told him that sometimes choices were just illusions. It was easy to imagine you had one, for people to imagine you having one, but in reality there wasn’t any. They were already decided by beings, people, things beyond your grasp.

She helped him to be at peace with everything.

So Draco merely raised an eyebrow when yet another of Harry’s friend insulted, threatened, and blamed him for everything that went wrong in their lives, from Teddy sorting Slytherin to the terrible new Minister. He knew he was outnumbered, so he didn’t attempt to make a stand, but neither did he show any interest in the longwinded complaints.

He wasn’t swimming in despair and guilt and who knew what else like they wanted him to and that was okay. Master Roza convinced him that it was okay, as long as he did feel guilty and learned his lesson from his mistake; it was okay to move on.

Draco only reacted when Teddy suddenly kicked the man from behind. There was a high-pitched shout and the girl Teddy was playing with moments before ran out the door and probably went to fetch the nearest non-Malfoy adult.

Side-stepping the crumpled Boot, Draco pulled Teddy aside. “What are you doing?”

“He’s bullying you!” Teddy said with all the hotheadedness of a boy his age. Not even being in the most hated House in school had diminished his brilliance.

Before Draco could answer— though he was still debating whether to chastise or praise Teddy— the entourage arrived.

Thankfully, Harry and Andromeda were amongst them, otherwise he was sure they would be mobbing him by now.

“What happened here?” Arthur Weasley, in a rare moment of authority, asked. Boot was already up and about and yelling rather indignantly. His words were slurring together until so much that they sounded like a duck squawking.  

It wasn’t hard to guess though and everybody soon trained their eyes on Draco.

They all had been waiting for him to slip up and cause trouble after all.

Again, while Draco was still deciding on the most diplomatic way to explain that ‘Boot was a jerk and so Teddy punished him’ without getting the whole massive clan triggered, Teddy pointed to Boot. “He’s bullying Draco!”

Boot sputtered. He shook his head and continued on with his tirade. He was still mumbling along, but it wasn’t hard to tell that he was trying to say that Draco deserved it. More than a few heads nodded in understanding or agreement.

Discreetly, of course.

Behind Harry’s back.

Everybody was more focused on Boot, whispering and pointing, except for Harry. He was watching Teddy and nodding along, his frown becoming deeper with every word.

Harry believed him.

Harry knew that Draco wasn’t in the wrong, wasn’t the aggressor in this scenario, and that—

—that warmed Draco’s insides.

“We’re going home,” Harry said in a loud, no-nonsense voice. He helped Draco get up from his crouch, ushered him and Teddy out the door, and only glared when Granger tried to stop him while the rest of the Weasleys were busy staring with open mouth.

* * *

 

Harry and Teddy were miserable.

Draco debated going to the Weasleys or at least to Granger and second youngest Weasley to make some sort of amends, useless as they were. He ended up not doing so because while he wasn’t much of a coward anymore, knowingly walking into a deathtrap wasn’t something he would ever do either.

Then Granger and Weasley ended up on his doorstep anyway.

They were lucky, in a way. Or perhaps it was calculated. Draco was rarely in the shop, as that was why he hired Taylor in the first place, yet they caught him right as he was delivering an additional stock of pepper-up. People seemed to consume an outrageous amount of pepper-up during holiday seasons.

The two didn’t look hostile, in a way, but they were tense enough that Taylor put up a defensive stance. It was adorable. Draco snorted and shooed the poor young man away before he accidentally became a victim in the almost guaranteed fight that would occur.

After closing the shop and letting Taylor off early, Draco brought the almost married duo to the lounge and served them tea. Then they sat around awkwardly for several minutes.

It was uncomfortable.

Draco steeled himself. The faster they cleared out of his home, the better. “We should just try to stay away from each other and continue as we did before that party. That way we won’t fight and Harry won’t be sad—is this acceptable to you?”

Weasley was glaring, but kept his mouth shut. It was Granger who disagreed. “No, that won’t make Harry happy at all,” she pressed her lips into a tight line. Then she turned relaxed. “He deserves to be happy.”

Before Draco could answer—and this was quickly becoming a rather annoying habit—the door was thrown open and Teddy was yelling. “No fighting!” then jumped into Draco’s lap, taking all his attention.

Draco almost didn’t notice Harry coming into the room.

The two returned suspiciously quickly. For one, Draco knew that Harry meant to be teaching Teddy about his job as the main auror patrolling Eteren Alley. They were supposed to be out the whole day.

“What are you two doing here?” Harry asked.

Even blocked by Harry’s finely trained body, Draco caught a glimpse of Granger and Weasley’s faces. They were pale and slightly frightened. Especially when Harry started talking and he was using his hard voice, the one he learned from his bear-like instructors in Ukraine for the greener, easily intimidated criminals.

Combined with his uniformed bulky body, Harry must have looked a scare.

Teddy snuggled closer to Draco, probably unused to his Uncle Harry being so harsh.

“We’re trying to make peace with Malfoy,” Weasley said quickly. “Just like you want!”

“By going behind my back?” Harry threw back just as quick. He opened his mouth, with his tirade face on, but suddenly stopped. Then he looked at Draco.

Being asked out when the discussion was about him felt unpleasant, but Harry was giving him sad, pleading eyes.

It was unfair.

With a sigh, Draco had gotten up, threw one last pout at Harry, and took Teddy out the door with him.

It was barely closed behind him before the yelling began.

* * *

 

The next day, Draco had called his traitorous clerk to his side before opening time.

“Mister Taylor, forgive me for forgetting to ask before,” Draco said with his mildest tone. His employee, busy with counting the till, barely acknowledged his words beyond a small, almost unnoticeable nod. “Where, exactly, are you applying to? Is it to the Auror Academy?”

When the mousey young man froze, Draco knew he was right. It wasn’t hard to guess once he had gotten a clue; Harry and Teddy had returned home awfully fast, as if somebody had tipped them off.  

Freezing when caught in a lie was terrible form though. If it was him, Draco would immediately try to find a way to alleviate the suspicion. There was still some time before the academy started, maybe Draco should taught him about it in appreciation for the good work he had done at the shop.

“Alright, leave the till for now. I need to talk to you.” Taylor gulped as Draco smiled. It was nice to know that he could still be intimidating if he wanted to.

It wasn’t hard to get the story out of the boy. It wasn’t complete, though. There were too many things missing, most important of all being the motivation behind it all.

There was only one person who could give Draco the answers he needed.

Patience was, after all, a virtue. Draco didn’t attack until Teddy was safely asleep in his bedroom and a one-way silencing spell was cast to make sure he wouldn’t be awakened by the inevitable screaming match.

But before Draco could start, Harry had already bowed his head.

 “I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh.

“Are you really?” Draco asked.

When Harry didn’t answer, instead avoiding his eyes, Draco gritted his teeth. He had managed not to explode at Taylor, because that would be undeserving, but Harry had been the one to hire him to spy on Draco in the first place.

It—hurt.

“Am I so untrustworthy that you had to hire someone to spy on me when you couldn’t do it yourself?” Draco asked, hating the way his voice wavered.

“That’s not it!” Harry jumped to his feet and took Draco’s hand. He was gentle. He was always gentle, these days. “I trust you. I trust you more than I trust anybody else.”

“Why, then? Why did you do this, why go to such length?” Draco squeezed once before slipping his hand out of Harry’s grasp. He lifted the glass of wine he had poured beforehand and sipped it to calm himself. “I’m not a damsel-in-distress to be rescued, Harry.”

“Because I want you to be safe! I want you to be safe and happy and don’t need to worry backstabbing employee or vengeful stranger on the street. I’m not happy to be back if it puts you in danger all the time, but I know you’re too stubborn to move away now,” Harry said.

He took the glass from Draco’s hand and put it on the table, moving closer and closer, trapping Draco. There was no way to escape him.

“It’s not like we can stay in Ukraine forever,” Draco replied. He determinedly looked away. They were already too close.

Harry liked eye contact. He wanted to always look at the person he was talking to in the face. He once told Draco that there was intimacy in eye contact. It was yet another thing that the Ukrainians had taught him.

On the other hand, Draco loathed it. He didn’t like to bare his self to another person.

Above all, he didn’t like to be forced to do it.

When Harry didn’t speak for quite awhile and finally moved away, Draco thought that would be the end of it. He was about to drink his wine again when Harry’s hand stopped him, curling and twining around his own. For once, he decided to be brave and looked up, finally facing Harry.

What he saw took his breath away. It took all of his willpower to stay, pushing down the slight panic and the bubbling discomfort, focusing on the increasingly familiar warmth that bloomed in his chest.

“We could. We could have stayed in Ukraine forever and you’ll be safe. You won’t be harassed by the people who did nothing but hide when Voldemort came back yet acted as if they are entitled to gloat. You won’t be stepped all over by my friends because they’re not mature enough to let go of things that happened when we’re kids.”

It was a nice bit of idealism, but Draco knew that would have been too big a sacrifice. Even though England was no longer a home for Draco, Ukraine was too far and it was evident since the beginning that Harry planned to return one day. He was never meant to stay away forever.

But with the fierce way Harry was looking at him, the deep fondness lurking behind green eyes; it didn’t feel like an empty promise. It was—

The word tumbled out of Draco’s mouth before he could think too much of it. Before his mind could stop it. “Why?”

Harry’s face was wide open. It was hopeful and fond and affectionate and yet wary. There was also that determination, the one that was as relentless and powerful as the wave of an ocean. It wasn’t hard to guess that he was about to say it, to speak of what Draco had feared.

It was too much. He wasn’t ready.

Draco ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is complete, but I'm still fiddling with some details. Last part should be up next week.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I've been in the HD fandom for almost two years now, so I feel like this might be a good time to start contributing. Then I saw eleventy7's fics and my mind started working.
> 
> Scents of Sleepless Nights stood out to me because of how elegantly devastating it is. There is nothing more tragic than the idea of a wasted life, of what could have been. I asked eleventy7 for permission to remix it and was beyond happy to be given the permission to write this. Thank you very much! Hope this fic doesn't disappoint you so much that you run off for the hills!
> 
> Please note that this story has not been Beta'ed nor Brit-picked. Any mistakes are my own doing and I'll be happy to have them pointed out.


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